


Fanning the Spark

by opalmatrix



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Accidents, Blanket Fic, Domestic, Drowning, First Time, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, M/M, Rescue, Snow, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day of play in the fresh snow turns into something serious — and eventually, something else entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fanning the Spark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rachel_reicheru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_reicheru/gifts).



> Written for rachel_reicheru for the yuletide_smut exchange on Dreamwidth. This is set about a year after Gojyo and Hakkai's "Burial" arc. Beta by **[smillaraaq](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/)**.

Blowing snowflakes were melting to drops on the lenses of Hakkai's glasses, making it harder and harder to see the snow he was shoveling off the path from the little lean-to laundry room they'd built last summer against the back of Gojyo's house. For the tenth time, he planted the shovel in the snow and retreated to the lean-to, where he pulled out his damp handkerchief and wiped his glasses clear again. Really, he'd done well: the path was passably clear all the way to the woodshed. He tucked the handkerchief away and, retrieving his shovel, circled around the house to see how Gojyo was doing with the front path to the public road. 

Gojyo, unhampered by the need to clear off spectacles every few minutes, had finished the walkway. It wasn't quite as tidy a job as Hakkai had done, but it was more than sufficient. Gojyo was busy with one of the piles of snow he'd built up near the road. Hakkai smiled: who would have thought he'd see the town's leading gambler and ladies' man making a snowman? Although … Hakkai frowned and came over for a closer look. The snowman was very, very happy to see him. Or see someone, at any rate.

"Gojyo! "

His friend grinned at him, teasingly, his teeth gleaming much too whitely for someone who smoked so many cigarettes. His crimson eyes had a wicked glint, and his long eyelashes were casting sharp shadows on his high cheekbones. Gojyo flirted as naturally as he breathed — even with his roommate.

"What will people say?" scolded Hakkai, dropping his shovel and scooping up some snow from the nearest heap. "Widow Shen and her three children have to pass this way to get to town."

"That's why his back's to the road, see?" said Gojyo.

"Well, what if someone came to visit?"

"No one ever comes over but Sanzo and the monkey. It ain't like they've never seen this before." Gojyo stroked the snowman's member a couple of times and stepped away, looking his creation over critically. "He leans left a little. Of course, so do … ."

Hakkai took the opportunity so kindly provided and threw an iceball, scoring a direct hit on the snowman's gleaming phallus and knocking it off. Gojyo's mouth dropped open and he clapped his snowy gloves to his own crotch. "Oh, ow! Hakkai, that was so cold!"

"Mmmm, I'm sure" said Hakkai and smiled. Gojyo straightened up, gave him a cheeky grin, and tackled him. They rolled together in the snow. It should have been terribly uncomfortable, but somehow, it wasn't. Gojyo was warm and heavy, on him and against him, and his breath was hot on Hakkai's cheek and then on his ear, when Gojyo pinned him and whispered, "Y'owe me one for that … ."

"Oh, really?" said Hakkai. He felt a baffling mixture of consternation and anticipation. What forfeit did Gojyo have in mind?

"Hey!" shouted a young voice, from the direction of the road. Gojyo cursed quietly and rolled off Hakkai, who got to his feet, brushing off the snow as best he could.

"Hello, Goku," he said.

The boy ran up, smiling and red-cheeked. "Look at all this snow! Have ya ever seen so much?"

"Yeah, and so have you," said Gojyo. "Just last month, it was up past your knees. This hardly goes over your ankles. What'd you do with Sanzo?"

"He's coming. He said I could run ahead. We got something for ya!"

"Beer?"

"Nope, better than that!" Gojyo snorted and started to dig through his pockets for his cigarettes.

"We have plenty of beer, Gojyo," said Hakkai, placatingly. "What did you bring, Goku?"

"Sanzo's got it. Sanzo —" Goku looked around. After a moment, Sanzo came around the bend in the road, carrying a satchel. Goku ran to him. "Sanzo, lemme … ."

"Now you want to carry it? Make up your mind, monkey."

Goku tromped back and upended the satchel in front of Hakkai. A large package wrapped in brown paper and white cord fell out on the path. "Oops!" The boy retrieved it and held it up. "It's meat! Can we have sukiyaki?"

"I suppose so," said Hakkai, after a moment. "We have most of the other things, except for shirataki. We do have some soba, That will be the last of the eggs, but we'll manage. Sanzo, would you like some tea?"

"Yeah. It's too cold to be out, but someone had too much energy to stay out of everyone's business at the Temple." His eyes flicked to the snowman, which still had rather more snow piled in front of it than the classical design would demand. Hakkai shrugged. Goku followed Sanzo's gaze.

"Hey, a snowman! I wanna make one!'

Gojyo, cigarette pack in hand, grinned and glanced at Sanzo. He was clearly on the verge of another artistic inspiration. "Gojyo," said Hakkai, sternly. "Can you keep Goku out of trouble for a while?"

Gojyo made a face, but he put his cigarettes away. "Hey, squirt — I'm gonna make a snow fort."

"Can I help?"

"Naaah, make yer own. And then we'll have a snowball battle."

"But I don't know how!"

"Just watch me!" Gojyo wrapped his scarf more tightly around his neck, grabbed his shovel, and stomped over to the side of the house, where he began piling up loose snow. After a moment, Goku grabbed Hakkai's shovel and looked around uncertainly. 

"Make yours over there, Goku," said Hakkai, pointing to a spot about 20 meters from Gojyo's construction site.

"OK!" The boy went to work with enthusiasm. "Mine's gonna be bigger than yours, Gojyo!"

"Don't bet on it, kid!"

"Tch," said Sanzo, after a moment. "So the pervert's actually good for something."

Hakkai smiled. "Of course he is. Let's go inside. I've saved all the newspapers, and we'll have some nice, hot tea. And maybe some sake, later."

It was peaceful and cozy inside the house. Hakkai set the tea kettle on and got Sanzo settled in the old easy chair near the ceramic stove, then measured out the tea and started gathering the other ingredients for the hotpot. When the tea was ready, he poured Sanzo a cup and gave it to him with a little dish of rice crackers and nuts. "Hmmm," said Sanzo, and cradled the cup in his hands, his face easy and relaxed for once as he inhaled the chrysanthemum-scented steam. Hakkai smiled, used to interpreting Sanzo's laconic communications. "You're welcome," he answered.

For a few moments, the only sounds were Sanzo's cautious sips of the hot tea, the flipping of the pages of the newspaper, and the quiet thunking of Hakkai's cleaver as he sliced up the meat and the vegetables. The wind moaned at the window occasionally, and at last, alternating shrieks and shouts announced the start of the snowball melee outside.

"It's good to hear Goku enjoying the snow," said Hakkai. "I imagine he has completely overcome his fear of it."

"Too right. He got the abbot and the senior monks with snowballs. The abbot was forgiving, but the other monks were pissy, so I said I'd take him out."

"He'll likely go straight off to sleep as soon as you get him back this evening."

"A man can hope."

Hakkai fetched a couple of jars of frozen broth from the pantry shelves in the lean-to. The drying rack and the washtub had been relocated to the kitchen when the first hard freeze had come, several weeks back. He set the jars to warm on the back of the stove and got out the soup kettle. When he looked up, Sanzo had put down his paper and taken off his reading glasses. He was frowning at the frosty window. "What's the matter?"

"Something doesn't sound right."

A high-pitched voice was calling. Goku, thought Hakkai, but he didn't sound excited and playful. Hakkai opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, Sanzo right behind him.

"Hakkai! Saaaanzo!"

"Over there." Sanzo, with his good distance vision, had spotted the boy. He was at the edge of the woods, waving at them frantically.

"What's wrong, Goku?" called Hakkai.

"Gojyo fell in!"

"Where?"

"The river!"

Sanzo cursed and went back into the house, returning with their coats. Hakkai pulled his boots back on and ran down the steps.

"Careful" barked Sanzo. "Don't kill yourself!"

"He could be drowning!"

"No!" shrieked Goku. "He's holding onto a tree. But I don't know how to get him out!"

"Rope," said Sanzo.

Rope. Of course. Hakkai ran back to the lean-to and got a coil of rope. Sanzo was following Goku into the woods, and they were almost at the river when Hakkai caught up with them. "What happened?"

"I got tired of snowballs. Gojyo said we could slide on the ice: Chen Guanrong and his brothers were doin' it this morning. And he went right across and the ice broke. He almost made it back … ."

Gojyo was in the deep narrows where the river spilled out of the pool in which they bathed and fished in the summer. Thank all the gods: a tree had fallen across at some point since the last time they had been here. Gojyo had one arm hooked over it, and what Hakkai could see of his face behind the strands of soaking wet red hair was greyish white. Perhaps he'd hit his head? Hakkai quickened his pace as much as he dared on the snowy ground.

"We're comin', Gojyo!" Goku shrieked.

And Gojyo _smiled_. Despite his predicament and the freezing water, he _smiled_. Hakkai thought his heart would burst as they all skidded to a stop at the edge of the river, near where the roots of the fallen tree had pulled out of the earth. "If we could get the rope looped around him —" said Hakkai.

"I can do it!" said Goku. "I can climb out on the tree and get it around him."

Hakkai glanced at Sanzo, who was frowning. Then he shrugged. "So. Do it your way, monkey. But don't fall in, or we'll have to get both of you out by ourselves."

Hakkai wrapped the rope once around the boy's waist and tied it with a half-bow, then passed the other end once around a nearby sapling. Goku picked his way among the tree roots and then climbed out along the trunk. When he got to Gojyo, he sat down firmly, clamping his legs around the wood, and worked the rope around Gojyo, under his arms. "Tie a good knot, Goku," called Hakkai. "Right over left, and then left over right … no, with the other part on top. That's good. Come back now to where the ground is hard."

Sanzo played the slack in the rope back to Hakkai. Goku scrambled back along the tree trunk and leapt to the ground. Hakkai pulled until the rope was taut. "Sanzo, you and Goku come back and take the end." Hakkai walked along to where the ground first started to feel soft and then backed up a half pace and wrapped the rope around his gloved hands. "Gojyo," he called. "We're ready to pull you in. Let go."

Hakkai saw Gojyo's teeth flash in a death's head grin, and then he let go of the tree trunk. The current took him so hard that Hakkai was almost forced a step forward before he was able to brace himself firmly and start to walk backward instead. The other two took up the slack, pulling it back around the sapling. Gojyo's head went down again into the racing water, but slowly he started moving back toward the bank.

It was obvious when Gojyo got his feet under him properly: the weight on the rope diminished suddenly, and Gojyo's head and shoulders appeared clear of the water. He managed to take two staggering steps forward and then fell to his knees, his head almost submerged again.

"Should I go in an' get him?" shouted Goku.

"No, then both of you will be soaked," said Sanzo. "Get your butt out here, you weak-ass kappa!"

Gojyo lifted his head clear of the icy water and snarled at Sanzo. He hauled himself upright and more or less fell forward and up along the bank. Now the water was only thigh-deep on him. Hakkai hauled on the rope again, and Gojyo staggered slowly up the bank.

"All right, we can let go," said Hakkai. He felt weak with relief as he dropped the rope and hurried to where Gojyo stood, shuddering. As Hakkai came up beside him, Gojyo dropped to his knees. He was pawing futilely at the zipper of his hooded jacket. 

"Why's he want to take off his coat?" wondered Goku.

"C-cold," said Gojyo. "Weighs a t-ton." He broke off and started to cough.

"Yes, I understand" said Hakkai. "Let me untie this rope, Gojyo."

Sanzo coiled up the rest of the rope as Hakkai helped Gojyo off with the water-logged jacket. Hakkai dropped it onto the ground and hauled Gojyo to his feet. He took off his own overcoat, warm from his body, and helped Gojyo into it. 

"What's Hakkai gonna wear?" asked Goku, anxiously. Sanzo silently unwrapped his own scarf from his neck and handed it to Hakkai.

"Thank you, Sanzo," said Hakkai. "Don't worry, Goku: it's no distance, and I'm warm from pulling Gojyo out of the water."

This was, of course, untrue: the wind was whipping Hakkai with a hundred frozen thongs, and Gojyo was so cold that he had no body heat to share as Hakkai wrapped an arm around his friend's waist and settled Gojyo's arm across his shoulders. Goku mirrored him on the other side.

"Goku — " said Hakkai.

"I'm strong, Hakkai! I can help!"

"Let him," said Sanzo, and in truth, Goku really was helping, even if he hadn't been able to figure out how to pull Gojyo out of the river. Hakkai would never get used to how strong the child was. Sanzo gingerly picked up the sodden jacket and Gojyo's remaining glove, and they trudged homeward. Getting Gojyo up the front steps was not easy, and Hakkai found himself grateful that the little house had but a single story.

"Where do I put this thing?" said Sanzo, holding the jacket at arms' length.

"Drop it in the washtub in the kitchen," said Hakkai, breathlessly. "No, Goku, not the bedroom. I want to get him into a hot bath."

"Gods, that sounds good," whispered Gojyo and coughed as the two of them helped him out of Hakkai's coat. Hakkai got him seated on the closed toilet, put the bathtub plug in and turned on the taps, and then started working on Gojyo's bootlaces.

"What should I do, Hakkai?" asked Goku.

"Build up the fires, all of them: kitchen stove, boiler, the little stove in the bedroom. Hang this coat over one of the kitchen chairs. And could you bring in some more wood?" 

Goku hurried out. As Hakkai pulled off the boots, he heard Sanzo say "No, I've got it. Go get the wood." _Sanzo is really taking this seriously_ , he thought, pleased.

Gojyo was trying to unbutton his shirt, without much luck. His hands were red and raw-looking with the cold, and the fingertips on the hand that had lost its glove to the river were a nasty dead white. _Frostbite_ , thought Hakkai. He would have to check his home medical handbook at some point. "Let me do that, Gojyo." 

Gojyo looked up at him with a faint ghost of a roguish smile. "Hey, sure, babe: anytime." 

Hakkai had to smile back as he got to work on the shirt. "I guess you're warming up a bit, then?"

"Anything'd be warmer than that damn river."

_Then what in the world did you think you were doing, sliding on the ice?_ But Hakkai couldn't bring himself to scold him. Not yet, anyway. He eased off the icy wet shirt and helped Gojyo stand so that the trousers could come off as well.

Goku stuck his head in the bathroom. "Sanzo got the stoves an' stuff going, an' I got ya a big stack of wood. What else, he says."

"Hold on a moment, and you can take the rest of his wet things and put them with the jacket in the washtub."

Hakkai checked the bath's temperature. The water coming out of the tap was warmer now. They got Gojyo's trousers and boxers off, and Hakkai helped him into the tub. Gojyo gasped as the warm water hit his feet and legs.

"Are you all right? It's not that warm yet."

"It is to me," said Gojyo, tightly. "Just gimme a minute to get used to it, OK?"

Goku went off with the rest of the sodden clothing. Sanzo appeared in the doorway a moment later. His eyes flicked over Gojyo for a moment and then returned to Hakkai. "I wrapped up the meat and put it back in the icebox. Even Goku isn't brainless enough to expect sukiyaki right now. We'll get out of your way now, unless you need us to do anything else."

"No, I think I can handle it now. Thank you, Sanzo." He raised his voice and called "Thank you, Goku. There are some cold pork buns in the icebox: help yourself on the way out."

"Wow, pork buns!" squealed Goku, happily. Sanzo sighed and went back to the kitchen.

"I think I wanna sit down now," said Gojyo, quietly. His exposed skin was mottled ruddy and pale with returning circulation, and he was shuddering again. Hakkai helped him down into the warm water and shut off the taps. Gojyo leaned forward, his arms between his knees, trying to get as much of himself into the warmth as possible. Hakkai got a washrag and used it to squeeze water over the rest of Gojyo's back and shoulders. Gojyo started to cough again as the steam got into his lungs.

Hakkai frowned. "Gojyo, did you inhale any river water?"

"Yeah, dammit. It was so cold, so sudden, I was gaspin' before I had a chance t' think about holdin' my breath. Think I spewed most of it out when I managed t' grab that tree."

"Did you hit your head?" asked Hakkai, remembering Gojyo's sickly color when they had first rushed up.

"Nah, just my shoulder." He patted his left shoulder and winced. "Gonna have a hell of a bruise."

It must have just been the cold, then, thought Hakkai. "That's one thing cold is actually good for. Maybe it won't be so bad. Here's the soap: give yourself as much of a wash as you can. I'm going to get a cup so I can help wash your hair."

Gojyo looked at him sideways as he took the soap and washrag, half flirtatious, half almost shy. "I'm not five, Hakkai."

"No, but you could hardly stand. And it's no more than you did for me last year."

"Yeah," said Gojyo, and sighed as he began to soap up.

When Hakkai came back, Gojyo crossed his arms on his updrawn knees and leaned his chin on his forearms, his eyes firmly closed. Hakkai poured warm water over his head and then used Gojyo's preferred ginger shampoo to lather up his hair. As he rinsed off his friend's long locks, Hakkai could see silt settling to the bottom of the tub. "I think I'd better let this water out and give you and the tub both a good rinse with the shower."

Gojyo shivered a little, his eyes still closed. His long lashes lay damp and spiky against his cheeks. "Yeah, I can feel the grit under my ass. Stupid river."

Hakkai reached behind him and pulled the plug. He helped Gojyo stand as the water gurgled down the drain: he seemed more steady on his feet this time. "Can you manage on your own?"

"Sure, no point in you gettin' any wetter."

Hakkai pulled the curtain across. "I'm going to get my dressing gown and some more towels. Don't try to get out until I come back."

He was certain that he heard "Yes, Mom" through the hiss of the shower as he left the little room. He ignored it. A man who didn't even bother to own a dressing gown had to expect to be treated like a child sometimes.

Hakkai made a stop in the kitchen to put some of the broth on to heat. Noodle soup with meat and vegetables would be quick and nourishing, if not as entertaining as hotpot. He took out some greens and rinsed them, ready to chop, then went to fetch the dressing gown and towels.

He had timed it perfectly: Gojyo was just shutting off the water. As he pulled aside the shower curtain, he noted that Gojyo's color was much better, except for the fingertips on that left hand. Gojyo raised his eyebrows at Hakkai's analytical gaze and cocked one hip, but then he spoiled the effect by coughing. 

"That doesn't sound good," said Hakkai.

"It's nothin'," said Gojyo. "I'll be right as rain t'morrow."

"I'm never certain why rain is thought to be right," said Hakkai, handing him a towel. 

Gojyo chuckled as he started to rub his hair."You think too much," he said, from under the towel. Perhaps Gojyo was right: Hakkai certainly should not be thinking so much about Gojyo's slim hips, and the fact that his sex was no longer shriveled with cold and half-hidden in the darkness of his pubic hair. He took the wet towel from Gojyo and handed him another one, resisting the urge to offer to dry his back. Gojyo mopped his arms and chest and then started to wrap the towel around his waist.

"No," said Hakkai sternly. "Dry off properly in here and then put on the robe. You shouldn't be traipsing through the house half-dressed after soaking in an icy river."

Gojyo stared at him for a moment, then his eyes crinkled at the corners. "Whatever you say." He dutifully finished drying off and let Hakkai help him into the robe.

"Pick up your hair so I can put this towel on your shoulders," ordered Hakkai. And Gojyo did, smiling a little and stifling another cough.

"Now, go put on your sweatpants — keep the robe on — and sit next to the bedroom stove and comb out your hair. I'll bring you some hot tea."

"Can't I sit out in the kitchen with you? And have a beer?"

"Gojyo. No grooming in the kitchen. And you need a hot drink."

"Aw, c'mon. I almost drowned!"

Hakkai gathered up the wet towels. "Yes. What in the world were you thinking, Gojyo, taking Goku out onto the ice like that?"

"Th' Chen kids were doing it this morning, and nothin' happened."

"But you're larger and heavier than they are. And Goku is so solid. You both could have been killed."

Gojyo sighed, wrapping his arms around himself as though he were chilling down again, One strand of red hair clung to his cheek like a third scar. "Yeah, well … that's why I need a drink."

Hakkai shook his head. Giving in would be overly indulgent, but when Gojyo looked like that, Hakkai found himself thinking of all sorts of inappropriate ways to warm him up. A drink would be the least of it. "You really don't deserve any treats, but I suppose I could heat some sake. But only one. Go put on some pants. And some socks, and slippers."

"Slippers! I don't have any, and yours are too small."

"Those canvas shoes you wear in the summer sometimes, then: they will at least keep your feet from the cold floor. Go do it, Gojyo."

Hakkai went to the kitchen and put the sake on to heat. Then he sliced up the greens and an onion. Gojyo came out of the bedroom, his damp, freshly combed hair draped over the towel. He put his hands in the pockets of the robe when he saw Hakkai looking at him, looking back at Hakkai out of the corner of his eyes. "Your hair's getting long again," said Hakkai.

"Should I trim it?"

"Not unless you want to. I could do it for you." Then: "Do your fingers hurt?"

Gojyo had taken his left hand out of the pocket and was looking at it. "A little … I think the tips are blisterin'."

"Let me see."

The skin was whitish grey and did indeed seem to be swollen and blistered. Hakkai frowned, worried. "Let me check my medical book." He turned down the broth and the sake, washed his hands, and fetched the manual. "Frostbite … . It says I should bandage your fingers, but not too tightly. Sit down, Gojyo."

He got the first aid kit out of the linen cupboard and drew up another chair, sitting knee to knee with Gojyo. Carefully, he wrapped each fingertip with gauze and secured it with adhesive tape. He gently moved the fingers. "Does that feel too tight?"

"No, it's good." Gojyo wriggled his fingers himself but made no attempt to withdraw his hand. Hakkai laid his over it, gently.

"You frightened me, you know," he said.

Gojyo looked away and drew a deep breath. Then he started coughing again. "Damn. Sorry."

Hakkai gave his hand a little pat and and stood up, gathering the bandages and gauze back into the little latched box. "I guess I had better get you something to drink."

He gave Gojyo a glass of water and then a cup of sake. Soon the soup was simmering on the stove, making the air moist and fragrant. They ate supper, and Hakkai had no trouble getting Gojyo to go to bed as soon as his hair was dry. Hakkai fetched the futon from the cupboard and unrolled it onto the floor of the little bedroom.

"You can have the bed," protested Gojyo.

"Don't be foolish. I've been listening to you cough all evening: I'm not letting anything but your feet get this near to the floor."

He got Gojyo's bedding from the basket near the old sofa in the main room and put his own quilt and sheets on the futon. Then he made Gojyo put on a flannel shirt and tucked him in with an extra quilt that smelled faintly of camphor. Gojyo settled down and watched him change into his pajamas. "Are you gonna be warm enough, on the floor?"

"These are my warmest pajamas. But here, I've got this last quilt." It was heavily patched but still thick enough to add a little more warmth. Hakkai turned off the lamp. "Good night, Gojyo."

During the night, Hakkai was wakened several times by Gojyo's coughing. At dawn, with the pale lemon-yellow light spread over the eastern horizon, Hakkai stumbled bleary-eyed from the warmth of the futon to check the medical book again. He knelt by the side of the bed and put his ear to Gojyo's chest. Gojyo stirred sleepily and threaded the fingers of his good hand into Hakkai's hair. Warmth radiated from him. Hakkai listened to the air whooshing into Gojyo's lungs. As he exhaled, Hakkai thought he heard the crackling sound that the book had described as being typical of pneumonia. He pressed his palm against Gojyo's cheek, which was damp and hot.

"That feels nice," said Gojyo, and coughed again. It was a weak and painful sound. He turned onto his side and reached for his cigarettes. Hakkai grabbed them.

"Gojyo, no. You're sick. No smoking."

"But I wanna."

"You have a fever, and you're coughing."

"Meanie," said Gojyo, but his eyes were falling closed, even as he coughed.

Hakkai sighed, exasperated and worried. He tucked the cigarettes into the back of the sock drawer and put one of his quilts on top of Gojyo. Then he went off to wash and put on the kettle.

When he came back, he managed to get two aspirin tablets and some water into Gojyo. Then he wadded up some out-of-season clothing and linens and propped Gojyo up so that he was half sitting. "I wanna lie down," protested Gojyo.

"This will help you breathe better."

"Why?"

"Your lungs will work better if you're not flat on your back."

Gojyo's clothes and bedding were damp with sweat. Hakkai wanted to get him changed, but first he should get some food going. He put on some leftover rice and water for congee and a kettle for tea. Then he got out some fresh clothes. Gojyo was not much help in getting changed. He shivered and then shuddered as the cooler aid of the room hit him. Hakkai got him settled for the moment on the futon, breathing heavily and coughing while Hakkai stripped and remade the bed. Then Hakkai tucked him up again and went to rescue breakfast and put the soiled linen and clothing to soak.

Of course, yesterday's wet clothing was still in the tub. Hakkai sank into one of the kitchen chairs for a moment, and rested his aching head on his hands. How was he going to cope with this? Gojyo had little use for night clothes, so the sweat pants and flannel would have to be washed and dried near the stove so that they were ready as soon as possible. And they had a limited number of sheets, as well, and in this weather, there was not much room to hang them to dry.

And pneumonia was dangerous.

Hakkai dragged himself to his feet again and fetched a dish of the rice gruel and a cup of tea for Gojyo. He had to coax Gojyo to eat tiny spoonfuls: he kept complaining that he wasn't hungry and turning his face away from the spoon. Hakkai finally got most of it into him, along with the tea, and then walked him to the toilet. That entire operation would have been embarrassing, if it wasn't so sad and worrying. Gojyo was shuddering with his fever again by the time Hakkai got him back into bed, and his eyes were glassy.

"Jien," he whined, softly.

Hakkai's heart clenched. "Hush, it's me: Hakkai."

"Ah … oh. Hakkai?"

"Yes?"

"My head hurts, And my throat."

"I know. I'm sorry. You're sick. Can you go back to sleep?"

"Dunno." 

"Try."

Gojyo drew in a breath and wrapped his arms about himself. "Hurts," he muttered, and then coughed. Gradually, his breathing slowed. He kept coughing, but after a while, he did seem to be asleep.

Hakkai tucked the bedding around him as best he could and then went out to the kitchen to try to get some of the laundry done. Cranking the washer seemed to take forever and was more tiring than he remembered: Gojyo could usually be browbeaten into doing that chore. The wringer seemed to be more fiddly and tiresome than usual. He had just gotten most of the laundry hung up around the stove, with some additional rack space laughably improvised with chairs and broom handles, when there was a knock at the door.

Sanzo and Goku were standing out there. Goku beamed and held out a paper sack, which proved to contain some oranges and sweet buns. "How's Gojyo?" he asked.

Hakkai, damp and distracted, was speechless for a moment. Finally: "He's very sick, Goku."

Goku's eye widened. "From gettin' so cold?"

"Huh," said Sanzo. "That's an old wives' tale, I thought. And the kappa's as tough as an old boot."

"He inhaled some of the river water, which is not very clean. Now he's feverish and coughing."

"C'n I see him?"

Hakkai glanced at Sanzo, who shrugged. "All right, Goku," said Hakkai, "But you must be calm and brave. He may not recognize you. He called me by his brother's name earlier."

Goku looked worried but headed back to the bedroom, carrying an orange. Hakkai shut the door and put on the kettle again.

"Sounds like he's pretty sick," said Sanzo, sitting down on the only unoccupied kitchen chair and pulling out his cigarettes and lighter.

"I think he has pneumonia," said Hakkai, quietly. "I'm not sure what to do."

"I can carry a message to Dr. Hsu."

"He's a quack, Sanzo."

"Well," said Sanzo slowly, tapping a cigarette out of the packet, "We could send for Father Meng. But he'd take at least a couple of days to get here. Will Gojyo last that long? And meanwhile, Meng's best pupil is right here in this room."

"Sanzo!"

"Or we could just let things follow their natural course. Sha Gojyo should have died last autumn as a logical consequence of the bad company he kept. But you bought him more than a year of extra time. Some might say that's enough."

Hakkai sagged against the counter. "How can you say that?"

"You've got a choice, Hakkai. Either you care enough about your … _friend_ to overcome your reluctance to use your youkai healing powers, or you don't."

"What do you mean, calling him my _friend_ like that? He _is_ my friend."

"For a smart man, you can be a total moron." Sanzo lit the cigarette and took a long drag. For a few minutes, the only sound was the purr of the kettle coming to a boil. Automatically, Hakkai warmed the teapot, measured out the tea, and poured in the boiling water. He leaned on the counter once again, staring blindly at Sanzo's elegant profile as he smoked. In Hakkai's memories were the things he had seen with his "third eye" under Father Meng's tutelage: guts blocked by growths, knife wounds penetrating lungs, bleeding between skulls and brains, and yes, lungs clogged with noxious mucous created by the tiny organisms that caused disease.

The tea finished brewing. Sanzo stubbed out his cigarette and accepted a cup. Hakkai sat down on the sofa with his own. The cushions smelled of Gojyo. His eyes stung and watered with emotion and lack of sleep. "Diseases are less tractable to _chi_ healing than injuries are," he said, finally.

"Well, I can send for Father Meng anyway. And in the meantime, you can try yourself," said Sanzo. "Now go see what Goku's up to. Remind him there are peanut buns out here."

Hakkai set his teacup aside and went back to the bedroom. There was an overwhelming smell of fresh orange. Goku beamed at him. "I got Gojyo to eat half the orange!"

Hakkai found he was able to smile a little. A trickle of sticky juice had leaked out of Gojyo's mouth. His breathing was loud and strained. Hakkai dampened a handkerchief from the water cup. "Sanzo says you should go out and have a peanut bun."

Goku grinned and supressed a whoop of excitement as he sprang up and left the room. "Stupid monkey," whispered Gojyo. Hakkai sighed, relieved that Gojyo was still with them, and wiped the mess off his face. "Do you want a bun too, Gojyo?"

"No … throat hurts."

Hakkai felt his forehead. He was still hot, but Hakkai thought perhaps his temperature was a little lower. I must get a proper sickroom thermometer, he thought. "I'll bring you some tea with orange and sugar in a few minutes," he said. "Try to rest some more."

"Yeah," whispered Gojyo.

Hakkai went back out to see to his guests. Goku had eaten two buns and was wheedling for a third. "Goku, I think you should leave at least one for Gojyo. He may feel more like eating it tomorrow."

Sanzo set down his tea cup. "And Hakkai might want a couple himself. Come on, we should go."

"I haven't finished my tea!"

"Then do it. I'm leaving. I have to catch the afternoon courier."

Hakkai sipped at his own tea, his nose prickling. "Thank you, Sanzo."

"Thank me when the kappa's well."

Goku looked up. "What? He's gonna get better."

"I think he will, Goku, but he's pretty sick," said Hakkai.

"You'll make him better," said Goku, confidently. "You fixed that little boy's arm last summer."

Hakkai opened his mouth and shut it again. Sanzo raised his eyebrows. Hakkai swallowed. "I'll do my best, Goku." he said, and it was Sanzo who nodded.

"Let's go, monkey. Hakkai, eat something."

"Eat a peanut bun," said Goku, enthusiastically. "OK, I'm comin', Sanzo. Ya didn't hafta hit me!"

Hakkai shut the door behind them and looked at the table, shaking his head, but Sanzo was right. He would need his strength. He put the pot with the remains of the rice gruel back on the heat, peeled himself an orange, took one of the peanut buns, and ate. Then he squeezed the juice from one of the remaining oranges, grated in some fresh ginger, added hot tea, and mixed in a spoonful of sugar. He picked up several kitchen towels and carried them with the warm drink back to Gojyo.

Gojyo was sleeping fitfully, tossing his head against the pillows. Hakkai slipped an arm under his shoulders, and Gojyo shrank back, holding his bandaged hand in front of his scarred cheek. "N-no," he muttered. "Mom, no, don't!"

Hakkai froze for a moment. I might have expected as much, he thought, ruefully. I should have let him know who I was. "Gojyo," he said, firmly; "It's just me, Hakkai. I have something that should make your throat feel better."

Gojyo relaxed, dropped his hand, and turned his face toward Hakkai. "Hey, babe," he said, faintly, opening his eyes and smiling.

Hakkai flushed, but he doubted Gojyo would notice. "Here, sip this."

Gojyo sipped and swallowed painfully. "That's good," he said. Hakkai got him to swallow the rest. Then he pulled a chair close to the bed and took Gojyo's hand in his. "Try to relax," he said, softly. "I'm going to see what I can do about your cough. Just lie still."

"Like I have a choice," said Gojyo, with a breath of a laugh, and closed his eyes again.

Hakkai closed his eyes and tried to remember what it felt like to gather his _chi_ and send it into another's body. At first he was too distracted, fretting about Gojyo's condition, his own incompetence, and the fact that he was going to have to really _be_ a youkai to do this properly. Then Gojyo shifted, rolling over onto his side, and pulled Hakkai's hand under his scarred cheek. "C'mon. Please. Don't go," he breathed. Hakkai had no idea what Gojyo meant, but the plea was so heartfelt that Hakkai stopped thinking about himself for a moment. Of course I'll stay, said his mind, as he stared at Gojyo's dry lips, and suddenly, he was seeing inside Gojyo's mouth.

The shock almost threw him out again, but he managed to hold onto the connection. He traced the swollen flesh of the throat down to the bronchial tubes, likewise puffy with irritation and inflammation, and then went down into the lungs. There, just as he recalled from the case of the old man back at the Temple about a year ago, was the noxious mess created by the action of the bacteria from the river water. Hakkai went to work, nullifying the irritants, destroying the bacteria, calming the inflamed tissues, and then strengthening Gojyo's lungs to expel the remaining mess.

Gojyo began to cough, a deep, hearty cough, unlike the painful wheezing he had been doing since before dawn. Hakkai opened his own eyes and reached for the towels. The rest of the process was messy and unpleasant, but by the end of it, Gojyo's breathing sounded much better, and his forehead was distinctly cooler. Hakkai sponged off his face with the last clean towel.

"Thanks," said Gojyo, quietly. "That was disgusting."

"You sound stronger, though," said Hakkai. "How do you feel?"

"Tired. Things hurt. But not like before."

"Are you hungry?"

"Mostly, I'm sleepy."

"I think that's good. Let me bring you something to drink, and then you can rest again."

Hakkai brought him some water with another orange squeezed into it and helped him drink it. Then he rearranged the bedding so that Gojyo could rest flat and tucked him in again. "Go to sleep, Gojyo," he said. But when he turned to go, Gojyo grabbed him with a surprisingly strong hand.

"You too. You look like hell."

"Well, thank you, Gojyo," he said, cheerfully. "But the kitchen is a mess. After I clean up, perhaps I'll lie down on the sofa for a while."

Gojyo's grip got stronger, if anything. "Dishes won't get any worse. I know you rinse 'em."

"Gojyo, that's enough. Go to sleep"

Gojyo sighed. "Don't go. Please?"

Hakkai's heart stuttered, and he drew a careful breath. "I thought you said, more than a year ago, that that was the first and last time you took a man to your bed," he said, his voice light and yet taut with effort.

"Well, yeah, but I didn't finish what I started," said Gojyo, softly.

"You're still not well."

"No, I'm not. I'm cold, Hakkai. Warm me up?"

"Is this the kind of thing you normally say to your doctor?"

Gojyo smiled, a sweet smile with something of the devil in it but also something of the lost child he'd probably been ten years ago. "What doctor? No one takes care of me when I'm sick but me."

"Oh, Gojyo … ." Hakkai shook his head, trying to ignore the twinge in his chest. "Move over. And don't think I'm going to make a habit of this."

"'Course not," said Gojyo, but his face was smug, despite the cracked lips and shadowed eyes. Hakkai kicked off his shoes and turned out the lamp. Long arms drew him down, and Gojyo curled around him. The bedding was a bit damp again, and thick with Gojyo's scent: a little sour with illness, but mostly that same warm, familiar smell that relaxed the tension from Hakkai's neck and back. Really, it was the smell of home, thought Hakkai. He curled on his side to let Gojyo spoon up behind him. "Are you warm enough now?" he whispered.

"Gettin' there," said Gojyo and tightened his arms around Hakkai. His breathing deepened against the back of Hakkai's neck, and Hakkai was suddenly unable to keep his eyelids open. Perhaps tomorrow I can try healing Gojyo's frostbite as well, he thought, as he drifted down into the comfortable darkness.

Some time later, Hakkai opened his eyes. The slice of sky he could see through the window was a deep jewel blue: early evening.

What had awakened him was a clumsy, aimless prodding at the base of his spine. For a second he was shocked, and then he was amused. What did he expect, after all, lying down in a bed with his lascivious roommate?

It was not as though he had never considered this situation, after all.

He reached behind himself, groping what he found there. A large, hard phallus: yes. Perhaps not so large as his own, but he had nothing else with which to compare it. He stroked firmly along the length and Gojyo hummed and murmured sleepily: a sweet and musical sound.

The angle was extremely awkward. Hakkai abandoned any pretense of subterfuge and rolled over. Gojyo's face was half-buried in the pillow, eyes closed. The curve of his cheekbone and the lines of the tendons in his neck were quite beautiful, thought Hakkai. He ran one hand over the warm, slightly damp flannel covering Gojyo's abdomen, then snaked his fingers under the tails of the shirt and into the warmth of the sweatpants. His fingers stroked through the coarse hair at the bottom of Gojyo's belly and encountered his cock. The skin was hot — but not feverish — and satiny-smooth, with moisture at the tip of the velvet-soft head. Gojyo sighed, a shaky breath, and as Hakkai watched, his eyes fluttered open and he frowned.

"Hakkai? What're you … ?"

"I'm jerking you off. Isn't that the correct term?" said Hakkai, and his voice was a little less controlled than he would have liked.

"Oh, crap. Was I — ?"

"Well, yes. Should I stop?"

"Gods, no. But do you really want to … ?"

"I'm as old as you are, Gojyo. Even a bit older, to be strictly accurate. I knew what might happen if I shared a bed with you." Hakkai put his head down on the pillow, so that their noses were almost touching. "Kiss me," he said, firmly.

Gojyo ran the tip of his tongue along his dry lips. Hakkai found that his own mouth was watering. Gojyo lifted his head and squirmed forward, his length pressing hard against Hakkai's hand and his head turning to meet Hakkai's lips with his own. Hakkai opened his mouth to welcome Gojyo's and stroked his tongue against his friend's, following that rhythm with his hand. For a moment they did just that, exploring each other's mouths as Hakkai continued to stroke Gojyo's hard-on, and then Gojyo's head fell back on the pillow. His breath escaped in a soft, heartfelt groan, and his cock pulsed in Hakkai's hand. Warm liquid flowed against Hakkai's thumb and forefinger, and Gojyo relaxed back into the bed.

Hakkai shifted to press his cheek against Gojyo's shoulder. He was not sure about the etiquette for handling the mess between them on the bed. But the freshly washed sheets were likely dry by now. 

"Thanks," said Gojyo, softly. "I owe you one."

Now that Hakkai considered the situation, he realized that he was more than half-hard himself. On the other hand, his consciousness of Gojyo's recent illness was interfering with his desires. "Perhaps tomorrow. Right now, you ought to take a shower, and I'll change the sheets again."

"Bet you need a shower, too."

"Well … ." He couldn't deny it: his last shower had been the morning before.

"I c'n scrub your back."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Hakkai. "I am perfectly capable of —" Then he caught the expression on Gojyo's face: the eagerness, and the mischief.

"Well," he conceded; "Perhaps I ought to let you. You've been a rather difficult patient; perhaps you can make it up to me, if you're feeling well enough."

"You bet I will," promised Gojyo.

And so he did.

 


End file.
